(via yourmothershouldknow)
See?! Women can dress! The grandmother blanket from hospice used as a scarf may be innovative, although a tad too much, but this bitch is a step in the right direction.
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Ask me shit!
About the author(s): MjH grew up in the suburbs of Encino, CA, born into a family of hilarious Jews. His mother, a witty New Yorker with a sharp tongue, set the bar pretty high in terms of what he looks for in a wife/Jewess.
Forever wearing glasses and on the hunt for Jewish cunt, our man wants you to know that he once schtupped a dame at DIVE! in Century City.
Copyright 2009-2011 BlackBerry Jew Squeeze
I will eat you so!
{Miss you, Boston to LA to NYCer}
I want your legs wrapped around my head, on my bed, with the patio doors open, the Gorillaz blasting, and the spliffs burning on the nightstand.
Come home.
Anthony Papallardo in NYC CIRCLE BOARD Skate video.
Enjoy.
Mandy.
NYC, 2008
Hey New York! How’s the frigid bitch weather? Oh, you mean you don’t want to go to Papaya King in this humid Winter you’re having?
What do you mean nobody visits the MoMa, the Chrysler Building, or The Vampire State Building due to the inclement weather?
Just remember one thing when you are talking about how fucking radical your (read: NEW YORK) city is: you have to wait 9 months for warm (read: putridly, stinkin’ hot) weather. Meanwhile, I’m skinny-dipping with Bar Rafaeli in February. Just laughin’ at ya’all. I don’t care how many bike messengers sell weed. Call me old fashioned, but like Sanka Coffee, I like getting my weed mano-a-mano: from the man. I don’t mind waitin’ for him either. Also, my weed is much better and doesn’t come in a stupid plastic see-through box that isn’t really an eighth. Eighth = 3.5 grams.
Lemme know when the line shortens up at Shake Shack. I wanna titmilkshake a bitch.
(Author’s Note: Cool Runnings is way better than the Olympics)
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum
Well, not the forum, but a funny thing did happen on the way to a dinner date with friends. I got on the 6 train last night to head downtown. Just so you know, I also refer to the subway as The Twilight Zone because…well..have you ever been on the subway? Anyway, something shifted at the 59th street stop. All of the weirdos got off the train and maybe, just MAYBE, every attractive man in the city of Manhattan got on the train. I’m pretty sure my jaw dropped like a fucking doofus. The train was pretty packed, so my future husband (didn’t actually catch his name…) had to hang on to the pole above me therefore leaning over me, crotch to face, therefore causing me to giggle like an idiot. No but, HELLO? Where have all these gorgeous men been hiding??? Is the 6 train around 8pm on a weekday where it’s at?? Even J.Lo named an album “On The 6” and clearly this is why?? Maybe I’m just a sucker for a man in a suit? I don’t know. But the point is that next time I’m on the 6 train around 8pm on a weekday, I will be wearing the proper attire for attracting a husband: NOTHING AT ALL WITH A PAIR OF HEELS.
-Emily
